


everything i feel returns to you somehow

by mm_nani



Series: windmills of your mind [2]
Category: Football RPF
Genre: Future Fic, Happy Ending, M/M, OC heavy, and pierreus doing what they do best, being dads to kids, but i love them all, im too weak, my body was ready for these two to be happy, my imaginary dortmund babies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-17
Updated: 2017-09-17
Packaged: 2018-12-30 21:32:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12117651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mm_nani/pseuds/mm_nani
Summary: Auba takes the assistant manager position for Borussia Dortmund's youth squad without realizing his ex-husband, Marco Reus, is the managerorWhen Dortmund calls, Auba doesn’t have to think twice.





	everything i feel returns to you somehow

**Author's Note:**

  * For [flamingosarepink](https://archiveofourown.org/users/flamingosarepink/gifts).



> This is probably the hardest and most involved project I've ever managed to finish and as for the happy ending you have flamingosarepink to thank. She has yelled at me on tumblr everyday and loved this work more than I have and it was the first time that has happened to me and I have been honored beyond words to touch someone this much.
> 
> She's basically a cowriter since 70% of these headcannons are hers and I just wrote them. tbh i was ready for ne me quiite pas to end happy too lol
> 
> Title from [The Only Thing](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=adKEqin5SoI)

When Dortmund calls, Auba doesn’t have to think twice.

 

It’s Nuri on the other side. He doesn’t understand what the call is about at first, suddenly hearing German after years throws him off, but he catches enough words to realize it’s Nuri rambling about Dortmund. Nuri switches to Spanish when Auba admits he doesn’t really remember German that well.

 

‘I’m the youth co-ordinator of Dortmund now.’ Nuri says, sounding pleased if a little bashful, ‘and we really need an assistant coach.’

 

One of these days, a former Dortmund teammate of his will call him for normal reasons like a visit to France which he will then proceed to plan with great love and care.

 

Until then, he’s stuck running off to Dortmund every time they do.

 

*

 

Auba surprises himself.

 

He’s missed Dortmund obviously, but he thought that it was a part of missing the glory and the adrenaline rush of being a footballer. But he feels instantly comforted when he walks through the familiar airport completely unnoticed, shoulders relaxing from an anticipation he cannot quite place. Nuri sees him from across the arrival hall and waves in a big gesture.

 

Auba has to hold in an urge to run to him.

 

Nuri folds his sunglasses as Auba approaches, hangs it from his collar. It digs into Auba’s chest when they hug but then again maybe Auba is squeezing too tight.

 

‘Big man.’ Auba says in greeting, patting Nuri’s back and Nuri laughs.

 

Nuri still wears the same perfume. His smile feels like finding a missing piece of a puzzle Auba once loved assembling.

 

*

 

Nuri, because he knows Auba, drives him first to Westfalenstadion.

 

The nostalgia feels alive in his skin when they walk onto the pitch. The silence feels thunderous and the wind is the thud of a ball against his boots.

 

Auba makes a decision even before Nuri has a chance to say anything.

 

*

 

‘The meeting with the board is just a formality’ Nuri assures, ‘they’ve already signed the contract, HR just needs to process your coaching licence when you’re done signing’.

 

Auba still wears a suit, treats it like an interview, his love for Dortmund bubbling just under the surface, waiting for words.

 

Auba isn’t, however, prepared to see Marco there.

 

It’s hard to concentrate on what Watzke is saying with Marco sitting on one side of the table in BVB training tracks. Watzke’s words are mostly sugar and fluff, Auba doesn’t think he misses much anyway. He can always use his ‘I’m not good at German’ excuse later.

 

‘We mostly arranged for the meeting because I haven’t seen you in so long, son.’ Watzke croaks, ‘I have no doubt you will be an excellent addition to the youth staff,’ He looks proudly at Marco, ‘headed by your good friend here.’ and slaps him playfully on the back, ‘you guys are BVB’s dream team!’

 

Auba nods, swallowing around a lump in his throat.

 

*

 

Marco catches up to him after the meeting.

 

‘Auba,’ he calls, ‘don’t’ he pauses, looking up at the ceiling for a second, like he’s trying to pick what he needs to say next, ‘don’t be mad at Nuri, I asked him not to tell you.’ Marco takes a shaky breathe looking more vulnerable than he has any right to, ‘I didn’t think you’d come if you knew.’

 

‘How are you?’ Auba asks because it’s all he could think about since he’s arrived at Dortmund.

 

It’s all he’s thought about since he left Dortmund - _Marco, recovering but confused-_ two years ago.

 

Marco blinks like he doesn’t understand why Auba is being nice to him. It stings more than it should, ‘I’m-I’m good. My memories are back,’ he pauses, ‘well as much as they’re ever going to come back. I haven’t found my house keys in three days.’ He chuckles embarrassedly.

 

‘Check the fridge.’ Auba’s heart thumps at the memory of them being late to everything because Marco could never find his keys, ‘you used to leave them in the door sleeve where we kept the water.’

 

‘Will you- will you consider taking the job?’ Marco interrupts, it feels like they’re having two different conversations at once.

 

Auba shrugs, hopes it looks nonchalant, ‘I gave Nuri my word.’

 

He hadn’t but he needed an excuse - any excuse - to stay.

 

*

_It was behind the water jug_

 

Auba is already back in his hotel when he receives the text. And then two seconds later.

 

_Is this still your number?_

 

*

Auba is dreading the first day, his stomach churning as he drives to the training ground. But he spends most of the morning getting acquainted with the team and training schedules.

 

He tries out his broken German with them and it’s an easy camaraderie to fall into. Auba takes a particular liking to the defensive coordinator, a thirty-six year old recently retired footballer from BVB’s women’s team, Amelie.

 

She’s French and helps him translate whenever he gets lost in the conversation.

 

He feels, rather than see, Marco walk into the room. Marco has always had a commanding presence and Auba has always struggled to resist it.

 

‘Auba.’ Marco says and Auba convinces himself that it isn’t intimate, that his heart isn’t skipping a beat, ‘I’d like you to oversee running drills.’

 

Auba is up even before Marco finishes his order.

 

For a moment, he allows himself to feel happy and excited. He didn’t think he’d ever be back in Dortmund, doing what he loves best, in a place that’s so special to him, next to someone who’s always going to be close to his heart.

 

For a moment, he convinces himself that it’s not going to end in heartbreak - as everything with Marco eventually does.

 

*

 

_Marco is nervous for his comeback game, fidgeting where he’s standing in the line-up in the tunnel as the crowd sings ‘You’ll never walk alone’._

 

_It’s for him, there are interspersed cheers of ‘Marco!!!’, the support is overwhelming, in both an encouraging and nerve-wracking way._

 

_He’s always nervous for these; there’s always that chance that he never comes back quite the same. Marco has never stopped praying that it’s his last injury even though God doesn’t seem to listen._

 

_Marco thinks about Bosz reassuring him, his serious face contorted into what Bosz at least believes is comforting. His teammates too have done nothing but whoop and cheer him the last month in training._

 

_If there’s one thing that manages to settle his nerves though, it’s Auba’s back in his line of sight; held taut, muscles pulsing with every breathe and a solid source of comfort in front of him.  Auba feels too real, too tangible and Marco wants to bury his face into Auba’s neck and take a deep breath._

 

_He’s grateful for Mario in between them, this way he can stare his fill without being too obvious. They finalized the divorce only a few weeks prior and it’s shameful how much Marco still wants Auba, still craves for his attention._

 

_If he thought their chemistry on pitch would be affected, he was wrong. Auba is there like he always is at the tail end of his crosses, Marco still doesn’t have to look for him, so tuned into his existence._

 

_The rush Marco feels when Auba kicks in one of his deflected attempts on goal is incomparable to anything he’s felt in months, at least since marriage equality was passed in Germany and he still thought he could save his marriage._

 

_He’s glad Christian jumps into Auba’s arms before he can, doesn’t miss how Auba shivers when Marco runs his fingers across his back during the celebration._

 

*

‘Let’s go out for drinks to celebrate your first day.’ Auba doesn’t mean to widen his eyes in alarm but it happens anyway and Marco stutters, explaining himself, ‘with-with the staff as a welcome’

 

Auba nods, ‘yes coach.’ and he wants to kick himself for sounding so formal because Marco’s face falls, the lines of his eyes bunching into a grimace, ‘thanks for inviting me out, Marco.’ he corrects, tries not to make things awkward and fails.

 

The fitness expert, Max, comes jogging in then, saving him from saying anything more. Auba can tell he’s an upbeat sort of character or just a very oblivious one as he cuts in through the tension and doesn’t pause as he hands Marco the lifting guidelines.

 

Marco clears his throat, taking the document, ‘Tell the staff that we’re going out later to celebrate Auba’s first day.’ Max nods, throwing an excited thumbs up in Auba’s direction, Auba is convinced that Max doesn’t understand a single word of his accented German.

 

Marco buys everyone a round, there’s an excited chatter around the table as they talk about the boys. Amelie, in particular is almost viciously candid about the boys she likes and believes in. They all nod a little excitedly when she mentions Axel. Auba needs to memorize all their names and faces from the roster over the weekend because he realizes he has no idea who they’re talking about.

 

They transition eventually from work conversation as the drinks flow. Max, it turns out, speaks English and he seems infinitely relieved to finally understand some of what Auba is saying.

 

‘How’d you make the decision to come back?’ He asks, excited now that he can communicate and Marco’s flushed face suddenly goes quiet, he’s looking doggedly down at his beer but Auba can tell from the way he holds his shoulders that he’s listening keenly.

 

‘A friend called. He made an offer I couldn’t refuse.’ It’s a disappointingly clinical answer and it’s not just Marco who looks a little let down.

 

‘Was it Marco? The friend.’ Max presses, ‘You two were best friends, right?’

 

‘We were,’ it’s Marco who answers and the table turns to look at him now, ‘and yes, it was me. I called him over here.’ Marco looks at Auba from the corner of his eye, like he’s making a confession, the table goes oddly silent.

 

‘Auba and I are a dream team.’ Marco says and Auba realizes where Watzke got his earlier comment from, ‘there’s no one else who I trust with my vision for the team more than him.’ Marco’s eyes are ablaze with a passion that should look ridiculous with the slight swaying and the red blush high on his cheek but Auba feels his stomach flip at the sight.

 

‘To the dream team!’ Amelie exclaims raising her glass, she looks a little crazed with her brown curls frizzing in the humid air of the crowded bar, the freckles on her nose glistening with sweat. The rest of the staff join the toast, the table thrums with the undercurrent of a goal and a purpose.

 

Auba vows to find his own apartment in the morning.

 

*

 

Axel, he finds out the next day, is their number one. Standing head to head with Auba, he’s taller than the rest of the boys. Auba remembers thinking, ‘he’s tall’ when he saw him yesterday. But today he notices why Axel is everyone’s favorite. Not only is he very good at keeping, stopping three of Auba’s five penalties, he has a quiet healing quality about him that’s so rare not just in young people but people in general.

 

It’s particularly good for the small but speedy forward, Fikret, who Marco has given him special instructions to keep an eye out for. Fikret falls to the ground angrily after failing to score against Axel yet again. Auba has been keeping an eye out for him, and his shots keep getting wilder and wilder the more agitated he gets. Auba lets him steam in his frustrations, trying to gauge if he has the ability to calm himself down. Just as Auba has decided that he must step in before Fikret explodes Axel has left his position to envelope him in a tight hug. Fikret deflates in the embrace and Axel pats him on the head.

 

This time when Fikret fails to score he actually laughs and Axel joins in with the rest of the team.

 

Auba feels a surge of pride for what Marco has built.

 

These boys are a _team_ , the trust and camaraderie pulsing between them feels alive and tangible.

 

*

 

‘Fikret!’ He calls out before the boys leave for the day, he’s trying to catch all the forwards to talk to them about what they feel like they should work on. Letting kids take charge of their own training and be critical of themselves nurtures confidence, he finds more often than not.

 

Fikret stops to look at him, a blush from training still on his cheeks even though he’s just showered, ‘yes, coach?’

 

‘I wanted to ask you about your drills. Are they effective for you?’

 

Fikret nods, ‘I can play with both feet but I still only mostly-

 

He stops suddenly distracted when a bunch of boys emerge from the showers. Axel notices them and waves as the rest laugh loudly around him.

 

Fikret fumbles then waves back, the tiniest smile playing on his lips.

 

 _‘More than just teammates then’_ Auba thinks fondly.

 

*

 

_Marco knows he likes men. That isn’t the problem, he’s known that how Mario made him feel wasn’t how most teammates felt about each other for a while already._

 

_He’s known since before Mario._

 

_The problem is that he doesn’t know if Auba likes men too._

 

_The problem is that even if Auba did, the whole thing is wildly inappropriate. But Auba is beautiful and kind and pure electricity on the pitch. Marco didn’t think he could find so much joy in playing football when not next to Mario but Auba charged in and blew all his arbitrary standards away._

 

_And then there is the gentleness; he speaks to Marco like he’s precious, he’s shy about his German but encouraging about Marco’s broken English, he practices late with Marco because he’s serious about the partnership, but none of it feels like working because they’re laughing through the exertion and the fatigue, he comes to Marco’s house drunk and promises to stay at Dortmund for as long as Marco is there._

 

 _But most of all it’s how Marco feels about Auba. Auba_ **_feels_ ** _like hope and forever always comes unbidden into the back of Marco’s mind whenever Auba is around._

 

_It’s impossible not to fall in love with Auba._

 

_They’re partying at the end of the week because they won their game and it’s international break, they all have some time to spare before flying off to their respective countries._

 

_And Marco is drunk and thinking about how much he wants to kiss Auba. Auba is a good dancer, and he makes everyone around him try just that much harder, even Picszczu looks like he’s learnt how to use his hips. Auba skips over to him, complains about Marco being a spoilt sport. Auba’s hands are clasped around his and Marco is unable to formulate a protest as he’s dragged to the dance floor._

 

 _When Auba told him to dance, he didn’t think they’d be dancing_ **_together_ ** _. But Auba’s hands are curled around Marco’s hips and they’re swaying their hips in time to the beat and each other. Marco feels the thrill one gets when they’re dancing with someone particularly good at it. Auba twirls him expertly and then does one himself, looping their hands around Marco till he’s in Auba’s arms back to chest._

 

_‘I’m going to take a risk now, okay?’ Auba whispers into his ears and the warmth spreading across his neck is intoxicating. In this moment, Marco would say yes to anything._

 

_He’s being dragged away again, his knees buckling from the feeling of having Auba’s body pressed close to his and this time when they stop, the air is cooler and the music a soft thumping behind a closed door._

 

_‘This is my friend’s club, this is his office.’ Auba says and Marco nods. It’s dark and Auba is close, his breath brushing against Marco’s cheek._

 

_And then Auba kisses him._

 

 **_‘Forever’_ ** _Marco thinks and kisses back._

 

_*_

 

They’re taking notes as the boys practice. It’s Marco’s idea for everyone to take their own notes and have daily 15 minute meetings to compare them. It’s hot and Auba wipes the sweat off his forehead as he continues his scribbling.

 

He startles when there are finger in his hair. He jerks away and looks at Marco who appears horrified.

 

‘Sorry, sorry. Your hair was flopping, I didn’t mean to startle you.’ Marco quickly excuses himself, but he’s still staring at Auba’s hair.

 

‘Is it fixed?’ Auba asks and Marco startles, ‘Wh-what?’

 

‘Did you fix it?’ Auba asks.

 

‘No, it’s still a little-

 

Auba leans forward so it’s easier for Marco to reach, he hesitates but a second later the pads of his fingers brush gently across Auba’s scalp. Auba enjoys the soft touch, lulling into a rhythm as Marco straightens out his hair.

 

Suddenly, there’s loud cheering among the boys. Gillian, a midfielder, is jumping up and down excitedly, ‘Coach did you see that? Did you see what Fikret just did?’

 

Auba had, in fact, not seen. Judging by Marco’s embarrassment, Auba knows that he wasn’t paying attention either. If Auba were to hazard a guess from where Fikret was standing grinning at them, Fikret had scored from outside the 12 yard box.

 

Marco orders them to get back to the game, Fikret jogs up to them ten minutes later for a water break.

 

‘Do you need a bottle too, coach?’ He says to Marco, his eyes are twinkling and Auba knows he’s up to some mischief, ‘It’s hot out. You’re flushed.’

 

*

 

Mats keeps texting him about having a housewarming party. Auba finally gives in and has one, except he has no friends in Dortmund so he’s not sure who to invite.

 

It ends up just being Mats and Amelie.

 

‘This is not a housewarming party.’ Mats says, nonplussed, ‘it’s like a housewarming get together. Except it’s you, me and a stranger.’

 

Amelie scoffs, ‘you trained me for two years on the women’s team.’ Mats squints at her, ‘oh that’s right, you’re the gay one.’

 

‘I am not the gay one.’

 

‘How’s your wife?’ Mats counters

 

‘Good.’ Amelie responds and Mats’ smile widens.

 

‘See? Gay one.’

 

‘Excuse me, but I was one of at least four gays when you were part of the staff.’

 

Mats sighs, ‘you were cuter when you admired me.’

 

‘Well, you were cuter when you didn’t leave the captaincy for Bayern.’ Amelie responds and Mats raises his glass at her, ‘Right to the sore spot. Spoken like a true bee.’

 

Auba throws a pillow at Mats mostly because he hates this, not having friends and also because Mats is always an easy target.

 

‘Amelie is my friend. Be nice to her.’

 

She smiles.

 

‘No offence to Amelie but you have other friends,’ Amelie scowls and Mats rolls his eyes, ‘ _more_ friends I mean.’

 

‘Wouldn’t you like for this to be an actual party too, Amelie? Meet some awesome Dortmund players.’ Amelie pauses and takes a sip of her beer, she’s pointedly not looking at Auba.

 

‘See? Your new friend agrees that this sucks.’

 

Auba rolls his eyes, ‘I did _say_ we were going to watch a movie.’

 

‘But remember when we used to do that with all the guys? Christian, Roman and Felix are still playing in Dortmund. Matze and Erik lives 20 minutes from here. Kevin knows you’re back and is secretly hurt that you didn’t call him. They’re all secretly hurt that you don’t think of them as your friends anymore, Auba. Julian will fly in from Spain if he has to.’

 

‘Sounds to me like you have a lot of friends.’ Amelie says nodding enthusiastically. Mats, pleased at her support, goes in for a cheer with his beer just as Amelie takes a sip of hers, spilling some beer down her shirt.

 

Auba feels very satisfied at the flustered apologies and general mess. He complained about his loneliness to Amelie in utmost confidence. Uniting with Mats to shame his sudden antisocial behavior is a breach of the bro code.

 

He growls at them. It’s too bad there’s no more pillows.

 

‘Also Marco is your friend too, right?’ Amelie comments as she opens Netflix on the TV, ‘you can invite him too.’

 

Mats’ eyes go wide, an evil glee spreading across his face because Amelie, Auba’s new _friend,_ doesn’t know.

 

Auba regrets having coming out to Mats so much.

 

*

 

They’re drawing up possible some lineups for the joint training with the senior team. Auba can actually see Marco crumpling under the pressure of showcasing their young talents in the best way possible.

 

The lines of Marco’s back are taught, shoulder blades sticking out of his white shirt as he draws different lineups side by side on the board in his office for comparison.

 

Auba has already switched Marco’s second cup of coffee for ginger tea so he doesn’t get too jittery before lunch.

 

‘Should I play Fikret in the front by himself or have three front men.’ Marco asks for the umpteenth time in the span of ten minutes.

 

‘Both positioning works for him, you know you can’t go wrong.’

 

‘Yes, but if all three of my best forwards are playing up then Gillian is going to have a hard time defending the midfield by himself.’

 

‘Marco, relax.’ Auba says and unthinkingly presses his hands down on Marco’s tense shoulders. Marco doesn’t relax, holds himself still, but then Auba digs his thumb into his back, right near his spine and all at once Marco melts into the touch, ‘It’s not a real game, they don’t need to win,’ Auba says drawing closer, almost whispering now, he’s trying to be gentle, easing, ‘just show that they can play’ Marco nods slowly, and a thrill runs up Auba’s spine at how Marco swallows when  Auba pushes his thumbs down and then back up to his neck. Marco is leaning into his touch now, eyes closed. The warmth of Marco’s skin under his fingers and Marco, pliant and responsive in his arms, short circuits his brain.

 

Auba finds that he can’t stop touching Marco, presses his knuckles to his shoulders and slides up. Marco is ticklish and startles around Auba’s touch. He relaxes when eventually Auba’s ministrations settle on his ear, Auba remembers Marco is sensitive there. Auba rubs the cartilage gently between two fingers and Marco keens. Auba is so close to him that he feels Marco’s back lightly pressed against his chest and has to suppress the urge to just pull Marco into him by a rough grip on his hips.

 

Marco is breathing soft and slow and there’s a blush creeping up his neck all the way to his ears. Auba wants to see his face, can imagine the half closed sleepy expression more vividly than he should be able to. Suddenly Marco drops his marker and the sharp clack against the floor bring them back to reality.

 

They jump away from each other and Marco rubs his neck for a moment, chasing the ghost of Auba’s touch.

 

They both bend down to pick the marker up and Auba finds himself on the receiving end of one of Marco’s shy smiles.

 

*

 

Auba feels Brackel in the pit of his stomach as their bus approaches the training ground. There’s too much that’s familiar, that whispers ‘ _home_ ’ into his ear.

 

He catches sight of his old go to sandwich shop or something that looks like it. It takes him back to the countless times he’d stopped there to grab dinner, the owner always throwing in extra pickles because Auba likes them.

 

Marco’s thigh pressed alongside his on the bus grounds him into the memory of youth, fame and stupid, impulsive love, the heat rising up his body all too familiar.

 

It’s difficult to come back and not _come back._

 

It’s clear that they have different roles now, different responsibilities but everyone at the training centre still greets them warmly, he recognizes the guy at the security check post and they chat for a bit, Auba having completely forgotten his name. He does remember that he has a daughter and he feels a rush of pride to find out that she’s going to college.

 

Felix and Christian come running out and are jumping onto them like they’re still teenagers. When they clamber off and Felix cheekily calls him coach, Auba notices that they feel somehow older, barely noticeable in the way they hold their shoulders and take command of the way they talk.

 

 _They’re leaders in the team_ , Auba realizes

 

Marco ruffles Felix’s hair in a practiced gesture, warm and familiar and Auba feels left out suddenly, doesn’t know if he’s still close enough to them to be treating them like kids like Marco is, especially in front of all the staff and youth.

 

He pats Felix on the back and diverts their attention to the youngsters milling about behind them. Auba watches on as the youngsters ogle the senior team with wonder and takes a step back, slowly gets comfortable in the role of spectator.

 

*

 

It’s obvious that Axel is a little smitten with Roman.

 

It’s hard to blame him because Roman is all around stunning. He’s strong, agile and extremely talented, has trophies and awards to boast of an illustrious career.

 

It doesn’t hurt that he’s also incredibly handsome.

 

They make an impressive pair, standing at almost equal height as they exchange keeping tips. Roman is all hard, buff muscles while Axel is mostly a bean pole, slowly growing into his frame and staring at Roman like he holds all of the world’s wisdom. Axel fumbles and drops the ball when Roman pats him on the head.

 

Auba has to remind Fikret twice that it’s his turn to take the shot during penalty practice.

 

*

 

They play a short practice match, thirty minutes to a half and rotating through all their players. Marco gives an excellent speech to quell doubting nerves and focus the team. All their plays for the first half are centred around Fikret with Gillian taking a bigger burden of defending the midfield. Marco is also playing their best centre back, Peter, in this half so that the defense stays solid.

 

Fikret is a little distracted, stealing glances at Axel sitting in the sidelines. Marco has decided to put Axel in the second half and Auba doesn’t know how to articulate the intricacies of teenage hearts when forming teams to him. He only hopes that Fikret gets himself together in time.

 

Their bench is cheering and clapping loudly, egging on their teammates even as Pulisic easily sidesteps Peter and goes onto score in the first four minutes. Axel is yelling himself hoarse and Auba has never seen him this animated, not even when their defence falters during the youth league matches.

 

When Fikret gets dispossessed yet again, Axel is jumping up and down, calling his name, looking like he’s about to rip his hair out.

 

A fire lights up across the team suddenly, and it doesn’t look like a match between a senior and youth squad anymore, it looks like a match between two teams giving their best for a shot at progressing to the next round of a tournament.

 

Fikret is linking up with both of their wingers expertly and Roman ends up having to make two saves. Gillian no longer seems like he’s giving up every inch of his life to keep the defensive line in shape from the midfield, instead he’s being fed the ball again and again, every time the senior squad pushes back into an attacking formation.

 

Auba’s heart is racing, and it’s not just from the tight, nervous grip that Marco has on his forearm, the game is exciting and unpredictable and Auba’s heart swells with the satisfaction of his labors bearing fruit.

 

*

_Playing next to Auba was a huge part of why Marco was in love with him. They don’t particularly try to hide how much they admire each other’s style of play and the comfort and ease on the pitch translates perfectly off it._

 

_Marco thought it would be terribly distracting having his boyfriend prancing around his workplace. He’d never dated a teammate but somehow knowing that Auba’s watching him only makes him want to perform better. It becomes a sort of foreplay, Marco driving Auba crazy every time he scores and Marco could barely contain himself on the pitch whenever Auba found the back of the net from one of his assists._

 

_Once it turned out this way it only made sense that loving Auba would mean loving his football._

 

_Auba has been particularly needy that morning, he drove them to the training ground, and the entire time he drove one handed because he couldn’t keep his hand off Marco’s thigh. Marco had held it in his lap, softly caressing Auba’s palm._

 

_Then Auba kisses Marco unexpectedly when he’s pulled into a parking spot at Brackel. Marco startles out of the gentle grip on his chin and regrets it immediately when Auba’s face falls. Before Marco can lean back in Auba is already outside the car and grabbing their bags from the backseat. Marco catches up to him and they walk shoulder to shoulder towards the locker room._

 

_Marco might be showing off a little during training because Auba’s eyes are on him throughout, he doesn’t quite need to bend over to pick up the ball and pass it to the next person in line but he does so anyway. Marco makes every penalty he’s given and Auba’s eyes look that much darker with each ball that swishes past Roman._

 

_They’re huddled around Klopp at the end of the day, receiving one of his inspirational strategy monologues but Marco can’t really concentrate because Auba’s fingers are warm against his nape. Suddenly, the hand travels down and Marco jolts as it squeezes his ass for just one second before it’s back up in the safe territories around his shoulders._

*

 

Two minutes before the halftime whistle, Gillian and Fikret is passing the ball back and forth, while their wingers pull the senior team’s defense away. Suddenly, there’s a yard of space and Gillian passes the ball in, and then it’s just Roman and Fikret which becomes just Roman watching on, dumbfounded as Fikret’s shot finds the very top corner of the net, out of any goalkeeper’s, no matter how brilliant, reach.

 

Roman starts laughing and the youth side _erupts_ when Fikret turns to celebrate facing the sideline, doing a cheeky little dance that Axel mirrors _._ Before Auba can fully process what’s happened Marco has jumped into his arms, excitement and pride radiating off him in waves, head burrowed into his shoulder and it feels like a long time before he lets go. By that time, the puppy pile on top of Fikret has already started breaking up and getting back into position.

 

*

 

They lose 2-1 but the Dortmund manager receives Marco warmly, complements the youth teams spirit. Marco beams, his whole being emanating a sort of ethereal glow, and a deep feeling of contentment settles in the pit of Auba’s belly at seeing Marco belong so completely at home in Dortmund once again.

 

*

 

The boys are disappointed by the loss, there’s a feeling amongst the whole team of having gotten so close to winning. They were in the mindset to win and they played a game that would have won them a game against any other youth team. The frustration of losing despite playing their absolute best, pushes the team even harder to elevate their level.

 

Auba doesn’t even have to recite the drills anymore, his forwards are getting into their formation and going through their routine without prompting and off the top of their heads. The entire staff is buzzing with this renewed spirit within the team, Max excitedly reporting the number of reps in the weight room each player had achieved beyond the week’s expectation.

 

Marco is the most relaxed Auba’s ever seen him and they fall into a sort of routine. Auba brings in coffee for them both in the mornings and they meet for 20 minutes discussing strategies over breakfast. More and more, it’s become about catching up than working. Marco manages to look genuinely curious every time Auba mentions his life in France and asks a lot of questions.

 

Auba imagines, or at least hopes, that Marco feels some regret at missing Auba’s life. Because Auba feels a pang of regret whenever Marco talks about Dortmund post retirement, of free Saturday mornings, of the creative ways that Marco filled in the void left by football.

 

He thinks of all the ways they coped with it in similar ways, like joining recreative sports teams and taking courses at their nearest universities, thinks of all the new things they could have experienced together instead of alone and left wanting.

 

Auba wonders if there’s another kind of void inside Marco, one that he can never really get quite used to, just like the one Auba has, the one that only Marco had ever filled.

 

Marco never brings up the accident or the few weeks they’d played house and how things had fallen apart after that just as they had the first time.

 

So Auba doesn’t either and they stick to talking about hiking trips and road trips to the beach and the occasional fan that still freaks out when they meet them.

 

*

Auba didn’t really think he and Marco were giving off an _aura_ of any sort.

 

They just know each other well so it’s only natural that they bring each other lunch, go to shopping trips together, get their haircut together, Auba picked Marco up from his dentist’s appointment that one time and now they find that it’s convenient to just carpool together too. Auba didn’t mean to get his apartment close to their old home but he knows the neighborhood the best and it felt like the best choice amongst the ones the realtor had showed him.

 

The first time he pulls up into their old driveway, his stomach tingles with the nostalgia.

 

‘I didn’t think you’d keep living here.’ Auba says, it was Marco’s home to begin with so maybe it isn’t that surprising.

 

‘I did think about moving out,’ Marco says as he buckles up, ‘many times but I guess-’ and he laughs a little embarrassedly, ‘I guess I couldn’t let go.’ Auba doesn’t know why he blushes, warmth spreading across his body.

 

The occasional mention of their failed marriage aside, they’re good friends and that’s how they act. But then Fikret grins at him when he joins the team for lunch one day.

 

‘Did you fight with coach?’ He asks and Auba doesn’t know if the concern is genuine or cheeky, the table is peering at him intently as well.

 

‘No, why?’ Auba asks and a collective sigh of relief goes across the table and Auba is just a little confused.

 

‘No reason.’ Fikret responds trying to seem casual and then Gillian bursts out, ‘It’s just that you guys didn’t come to training together so we thought something was wrong.’

 

‘Oh no, Marco just needs to drive to his sister’s for his nephew’s birthday after work so he drove his own car,’ Auba responds and is it weird that Auba knows that?

 

‘And you’re not going?’ It’s a little strange that the boys would think he would go. Especially since none of them know that once upon a time Auba attending was expected decorum.

 

‘No, why would-guys I think maybe we should move on from your coach’s personal life.’ He decides before they manage to weasel something truly personal.

 

The table nods and Gillian tries to cover up his disappointment with a smile.

 

*

 

‘Pierre-emerick’ Amelie corners him when he’s stuffing his bag into a staff locker, she rolls her r’s sternly and her face looks even more unimpressed, ‘Is Marco gay?’ Auba slams his locker door shut loudly, which of course only manages to draw more attention to them. She’s speaking in French so it’s not like anyone else will understand but talking about being gay inside a football stadium still feels forbidden.

 

She pauses to look around, waits until everyone else has stopped looking in their direction, ‘Were you two gay _together?_ ’ she says softer this time but now she looks suspicious, whispering furiously in French.

 

‘Ah yes, let’s talk about tackling drills in my office.’ Auba says loudly and in German, then pulls Amelie by the hand to his office, ‘Jesus you couldn’t wait till Tuesday, when we hang out away from work.’ He says closing the door behind him, he still keeps his voice down because sound travels.

 

‘You want me to talk about Marco Reus being your gay lover out in public?’ Amelie asks deadpan and Auba shushes her, his fingers coming up to her lips.

 

‘You ever heard of discretion?’

 

She grabs his hand, eyes narrowing conspiratorially, ‘Oh my God, it’s true!’

 

The door opens, ‘Auba I-’ Marco stops when he notices Auba and Amelie standing inches apart, ‘-I’ll, I’ll come back later.’ and he walks back out, slamming the door behind him.

 

*

 

It doesn’t help that the local paper picks up his torrid love affair with Amelie. Auba is frustrated because he thought this part of his life was over. But there he is on a corner of the front page with Amelie out on one of their Tuesday drinks with the title:

 

_Aubameyang’s new French connection?_

 

Auba sighs, ‘does Francesca have a problem with this?’

 

‘Oh God, no. She thought it was hilarious.’ Amelie says chuckling a little, ‘she thought the title was very clever.’

 

Auba thinks about the stilted breakfast he had with Marco that morning and sighs, if only everyone was like Amelie’s wife.

 

But then again, he and Marco are not married anymore.

 

*

 

_Marco is in pain and all he wants is to hold Auba while he sleeps. It’s easier to forget about his twinging knee with Auba pressed along his back like a furnace._

 

_But Auba is asleep in a spare room after another one of their stupid fights. It’s becoming more and more common for this to happen. Marco doesn’t even remember what the fight was about anymore but he’s too stubborn to broker peace and say he doesn’t care, that he just wants Auba._

 

_So he shuffles around, by himself, in pain and unable to sleep. He lets out a few moans when it becomes increasingly difficult to bear in silence._

 

_The door opens and Auba clicks his tongue at him._

 

_Marco pretends not to notice._

 

_‘Did you take your painkillers?’ Auba says, voice sleep deep and Marco’s knee feels instantly better at hearing it._

 

_‘Yes.’ He mumbles and tries to flex to prove his point. But his knee only twinges again and Marco can’t help the tiny yelp. Auba clicks his tongue disapprovingly again._

 

_Marco is aware of Auba closing the door and walking towards him, he sees Auba’s silhouette rustle about in their bedside table drawer and smells the strong menthol from his pain relief cream._

 

_Auba is turning him around so he’s on his back and Marco is half afraid to look at him, he doesn’t want to see Auba’s anger, not when he needs him this badly. But Auba only looks concerned, face etched with sleepy concentration as he gently applies the cream over Marco’s knee._

 

_Marco’s entire body seems to unclench and there are more pains than just the one in his knee that fades away as Auba massages him._

 

_Marco wants to shout for Auba to stay when he’s done but he holds his breathe in silence as Auba gets up to put the cream away. Marco is building up to feel the disappointment of the door opening and shutting as Auba leaves the room again._

 

_But Auba washes his hands in the bathroom and returns to spoon him in bed, pressing a soft kiss into his nape._

 

_Marco breathes and goes to sleep._

_*_

 

‘Marco,’ he starts but he doesn’t know how to continue, doesn’t even know who he should continue as, a colleague or a friend or a former lover? Marco is looking at him, a little impatiently, like he wants Auba to quickly finish so they can stop interacting again.

 

‘I wanted to clarify the story that was published, Amelie and I-’ Marco flinches a little, ‘-are friends. We just went out-

 

‘-I know Auba, I’ve met Francesca. Papers will write anything to sell copies.’ Marco cuts him off, he sounds genuine if not a little tired.

 

‘Then why-’ but Auba stops again, doesn’t know how to say ‘ _then why won’t you let me touch you anymore_ ’ without crossing a million professional boundaries.

 

But Marco can read him now as well as he could over a decade ago, ‘I just,’ Marco lets out a breath and he smiles like he’s remembering a precious memory, ‘I realized we were falling into a delusion again.’

 

*

 

_‘Mats is getting married this summer’_

 

_Auba smiles his wide, toothy smile as he laces their fingers together, brings in Marco’s hands and kisses every knuckle, ‘I know, he told me too.’_

 

_‘But did you ever think that? Did you ever think that Mats would get married?’ Auba is trying to tamp down Marco’s frenzy and keep them in lazy morning mode for just a little longer, kissing along his jaw slow and soft. Marco pushes Auba away enough so that Auba has to look at him._

 

_Marco can see Auba slowly giving up on keeping their morning light and pleasurable. Marco wants to yell at him for making Marco feel like the weird one for wanting to talk about this, it’s not like he’s making Auba get up, he just wants to talk about Mats’ wedding instead of enjoying waking up together with lingering kisses and slow lovemaking._

 

_But Auba doesn’t try to change the subject again, pulls Marco in closer by his waist, tangling their legs together, ‘to be honest, I didn’t think he would get his shit together this soon.’_

 

_Marco swallows, ‘Mats is getting married too...’ Marco tries not to sound wistful, tries not to yearn for that normalcy. Marco is interested in women too and for the longest time he’d dreamed of big weddings, surrounded by all their friends, a faceless woman in a wedding gown next to him. The familiar imagination makes his stomach churn now._

 

 _Auba nods, blinking drowsily and then tilts his head up for a kiss and Marco has to stop his thoughts from wandering into dangerous territories, tells himself -_ **_it’s too soon_ ** _\- even as he’s leaning in to kiss Auba, even as he dreams of highly decorated aisles and Auba in a grand tuxedo, pretending in the very back of his mind that they’re wearing matching bands on their fingers._

 

*

The youth team is going on a training trip together. He half wants to credit their brilliant performance during joint training day for the opportunity but apparently they’ve done shorter trips before. This time though they’re going to a campsite for five days and the boys are beyond excited.

 

They have to collect consent forms from some of their parents and Auba chuckles at how much it feels like a school trip, especially when they’re all piled onto the bus in their matching training gears. Auba is one of the first to get on and Gillian comes in excitedly taking the seat next to him, asking him if they are actually going to go kayaking.

 

Auba is talking him through the itinerary when Marco comes on and Gillian suddenly springs out of his seat and stutters out a, ‘sorry coach! I didn’t mean to take your seat!’ before he’s sprinting off to the back of the bus to sit next to Rashed, another one of their midfielders.

 

He’s gone before either of them can explain to him that seats are not assigned. Unexpectedly, Marco is committed to sit next to him now or make an awkward pointed gesture to _not_ sit with him and really, when Auba was imagining this to be a school trip he didn’t think he’d be facing dilemmas like _one of_ the school boys.

 

Marco takes a second before he’s sitting down next to Auba and Auba tries not to be acutely aware of Marco next to him but it’s hard enough when their sides aren’t pressed together, let alone when they’re cooped up together like this for the next three hours.

 

They sit stiffly for the first hour trying to avoid as much physical contact as possible, but just when Auba’s back is starting to complain, Marco slouches a little leaning against him, getting comfortable and Auba finds that once he’s relaxed, it’s really not that bad.

 

*

 

Auba should have really been expecting the room assignments too.

 

Waking up to Marco in his glasses, reading news on his iPad on the little couch in their room feels familiar, feels good.

 

Auba falls asleep again before that feeling can fade.

 

*

 

 _The day after they get married, Marco wakes up in a hotel room in France and Auba’s arms are thrown across his waist. Marco looks down to realize that the cold sensation on his skin_ _is Auba’s wedding band - the one he put on Auba’s finger._

 

_He puts his hand on Auba’s cheek to admire his own band against the contrast of their skin, toes curling at having something he’s wanted for so long. Auba shuffles around a little at the touch before settling back against him._

 

_For the first time in his life, Marco realizes, he has woken up in another country and not counted the days till he can return home to Germany._

 

*

 

Nuri drives down to the camp site the next day and Auba finds it a little strange that he wouldn’t just call. They don’t have the greatest internet access here but Nuri could still call the reception cabin. Nuri is acting all conspiratorial, only says he has to announce some big news and they wait till the boys are back from their volleyball match to eat lunch. Nuri gets up in front of the room.

 

Marco is grinning, like he can barely contain himself and Auba is starting to feel the excitement as well even though he doesn’t know what it is about.

 

‘I would really like to congratulate you all for the amazing game that you played against the senior team. The coach is really impressed and we’re all hopeful for a bright future in football for you all and I will personally help each of you achieve your goals.’ He pauses letting the compliments sink in and let the boys feel good about themselves, ‘And I will start by announcing that Fikret and Gillian has been called up to the senior team.’

 

There is complete silence for what feels like an eternity and then it’s hard to tell who screams first, Auba has his bets on Max, and then the entire room goes into pandemonium. Fikret and Gillian are swarmed by their teammates, Amelie is consoling a crying Max and Marco is looking on like a proud father at all the screaming and cheering and jumping around.

 

When Marco holds him by the nape, fingers gentle in his hair and brings him in for a hug, Auba realizes that he’s crying too.

 

*

 

Fikret is walking around like he’s been wounded somehow and is distracted during team practice in the evening after the announcement. Everyone on the staff is ready to chalk it up to nerves and excitement but Auba can’t help notice the longing looks he’s throwing Axel.

 

He also can’t help but notice that Axel has been returning them.

 

He longs to tell Marco, longs for the time when Marco would fit perfectly into his arms and telling him his thoughts was the easiest thing in the world. Marco is now pitter pattering around their room organizing his things in a silence that is not exactly comfortable but no longer feels awkward either.

 

Since Marco is technically his boss, Auba wouldn’t want to share what might as well be gossip with him. Marco still keeps a safe distance from him and changes in the bathroom after showering, but they’ve started getting used to this dynamic and Auba doesn’t want to mess up the professional equilibrium that they seemed to have settled on.

 

As always, Auba would take Marco in any way, shape or form that he can.

 

They hike up to a lake for a morning swim, it’s almost an hour long hike and there’s a small waterfall that’s leaking water amidst a rocky corner of the lake. The boys pause to take a picture and revel in the scenery but most of them are ripping off their shirts and stripping down to their trunks before jumping in, there’s excited splashing and the water that spurts onto him as a result feels nice after being in the sun.

 

The adults are taking their time, letting the boys settle in first but he can see the excitement twinkling in Marco’s eyes, knows it took a lot of self restraint to not jump in like the boys had.

 

‘Gillian, aren’t you going in?’ Marco says and Gillian holds his t-shirt close to his body, dipping his toes in the water.

 

‘I can’t swim.’ Gillian responds uncomfortably, shies away from Marco a little.

 

Marco nods and tries to be gentle, ‘If you want to try going in the water I can hold onto you.’

 

Gillian thanks him as Marco is taking his shirt off. Auba’s insides flop at the sweet interaction, he suddenly has to fight the urge to remind Marco to re-apply his sunscreen because Marco always forgets and then gets horribly burned.

 

Auba lets himself admire how beautiful Marco looks in his swimming shorts.

 

The rays of sunshine are hitting Marco in just the right angles and he’s positively glowing, body lithe and muscular, hair golden if a little gray around the edges. Marco gets splashed on as soon as he saunters into the lake. Soon enough Marco is laughing and splashing, chest glistening with water and hair sticking to his forehead.

 

And Auba _yearns_ for him so deeply that it ripples across his entire body, wonders how long he’ll be able to keep it in reign.

 

He stutters out some excuse to Amelie before walking off to calm himself, wanders off the trail they walked and into the woods. He stumbles into Axel and Fikret, who are both flushed bright red all over. They look embarrassed but the blush on their cheeks is not from being caught by Auba, Axel’s neck freckled with bright red hickeys. Auba would get angry at them for being reckless but their eyes hold a sort of desperation that Auba can relate to.

 

He walks off in another direction without saying anything.

 

*

 

_It’s a bachelor party and everything is loud and everyone is congratulating Mats and Marco has had at least eight shots and he’s in love with Auba and jealous of everything Mats gets to have. Marco wants so much that listing them all out seem futile and it keeps building within him._

 

 _He wants to have a bachelor party, yell at Auba for forgetting to confirm the catering, walk down the aisle with him, he doesn’t have any excuses left, clouded by the burning desire to_ **_have_ ** _Auba by his side for all of eternity._

 

_Coming out to Mats was never really planned but Marco is overtaken by alcohol and he’s angry and stupidly in love and so tired of hiding it. So he has Mats by his collars, angrily yelling at him. Mats, also beyond smashed, has the audacity to laugh as he gently tries to pry Marco’s hands away._

 

_Then suddenly Auba’s arms are around him, he realizes because he’s been yelling his name and Auba too is gently trying to pry him away from Mats. Auba is just so beautiful and kind and everything Marco has ever wanted that he can’t help getting emotional and nuzzling into his neck._

 

_Marco can’t stop saying I love you and Auba looks embarrassed as he pats him gently, trying to play it off. Mats looks at them and seems to understand that Marco isn’t joking and suddenly the situation has progressed a little bit out of his hands._

 

_He just wanted to let Mats know how frustrating it was that he got to have everything that Marco could only admit to wanting in the deepest corners of his mind. But suddenly, Mats is dragging them outside the club, where it’s quieter and cooler and looking at them with slightly hazy eyes and Auba is explaining their relationship to Mats._

 

_Auba looks a little pissed but Marco can’t stop touching him and Auba doesn’t tell him to stop and when he reaches up to kiss him in front of Mats, Auba kisses softly back for just one second and Marco feels like he’s soaring across the sky, like the shackles he’s tightened around his heart loosens just the tiniest bit._

 

_Mats stares at them and suddenly grins, ‘you know I’ve always had a thing for Benni!’_

 

_Auba laughs and throws a balled up tissue at him._

 

_*_

 

They’re around a campfire and roasting marshmallows, some of the boys are singing and Max is playing a guitar that sounds like it hasn’t been tuned in ages. Auba only catches snatches of conversation as he tries to figure out how to approach Fikret and Axel who are now at opposite ends of the fire, Axel has a scarf wrapped around his neck and Amelie is worriedly checking his forehead for a fever.

 

He wants to let them know that it’s okay, that he supports them but doesn’t know how to bring up the conversation. When Fikret excuses himself, Auba follows him, hoping that it’s not too aggressive.

 

He finds Fikret sniffling inside the bathroom of the common room. When Fikret sees him he tries to hide his face and Auba goes against all of his harassment training protocols to wrap him up in a hug instead.

 

Fikret can’t stop crying once Auba’s arms are around him and he keeps apologizing. Auba tries shushing him but it’s no use.

 

‘I’m sorry, I know it’s wrong but I-’ he hiccups, ‘-I won’t see him anymore.’

 

The taped up pieces of Auba’s heart cracks a little, the word _wrong_ circling around in his head, like an insult he’s hurled at himself countless times before. He wants to say so much, tell Fikret that everything will be okay but he’s too intimately familiar with the burden of loving alone, feeling like something is always missing and then pretending that none of its real to the rest of the world.

 

He rakes his  fingers through Fikret’s hair but false platitudes fail him.

 

‘What should I do, coach?’ Fikret asks, gripping onto his shirt like a lifeline.

 

Auba can’t come up with an answer, his inadequacies at coaching young kids never more apparent.

 

*

 

Marco comes back to their room a little tipsy.

 

‘You left the party.’ He says sadly and sits down on his own bed facing Auba.

 

Auba had handed off a crying Fikret to Axel, who had timidly come looking for him. Auba didn’t have the heart to tell them to be careful when he left them to come stew in his own room. He doesn’t want to tell them to be careful and seriously considers consulting Marco. Maybe, above all else he wants Fikret to have a freer life than his own.

 

Marco is looking at him drowsily and looks different than usual.

 

‘...did you get a haircut?’ he asks.

 

Marco giggles happy that Auba noticed, ‘yeah! Peter said I was starting to look like Klopp so I let him give me an undercut.’

 

Auba laughs, enjoying the stupid, squishy look on Marco’s face, already imagining how upset he would be in the morning ‘was Peter drunk too? Looks more like a mohawk.’

 

‘I’m not drunk.’ Marco murmurs and comes over to Auba’s bed so Auba can take a closer look at his lines.

 

Auba takes the opportunity to feel Marco’s hair, raking through the longer part and then tracing the edge of the undercut that trails a bit too close to the top of his scalp, Marco angles his head so Auba has better access and Auba’s fingers stutters over the bump of Marco’s surgery scar even before he’s laid eyes on it.

 

Auba’s stomach drops.

 

‘You can see the scar like this.’ Auba whispers, looking at the scar almost reverently and Marco leans into Auba’s fingers ever so slightly.

 

‘It’s why I’d grown my hair out in the first place, to hide it.’ Auba nods, still running his fingers over the scar, ‘But I’m done hiding that, you know? I’m done trying to forget that it happened.’ And Marco must be drunk because he looks straight at Auba and says without any hesitations, ‘Trying to forget that I almost died and I might as well have because I came back to let you go a second time.’

 

Auba doesn’t know what it is: the shock from hearing those words, the fact that he’d spent the entire decade longing for Marco, that he’d spend the greater portion of the night consoling a scared and heartbroken teenager or that Auba is suddenly faced with the irrevocable evidence that Marco almost died and Auba had just upped and flown back to France without trying his best to get him back. Auba’s chest feels raw with the emotions he’s trying to keep in and all of a sudden he can’t and he’s pulling Marco into him before he’s able to make a rational decision.

 

Marco comes easily, nestles against him, foreheads together, hands cradling his cheek. Marco looks happy, like he’s been waiting and Auba just _looks_ at him for a moment, taking him in, every freckle and lash that he’d thought he’d never get to see this close again.

 

Marco leans in to kiss him and Auba stops him at the last moment, lips brushing together and Marco looks stricken. Auba has to explain himself quickly before he gives in or combusts, holds Marco so he can’t run away from him either, ‘I want you. _Fuck_ , I want you so fucking bad. All the time. Never fucking stops But I did this once already, remember? I need to know that it isn’t the alcohol or you _forgetting_. I need to know this is you.’ Auba can hear the quiver in his voice, can see Marco’s fingers trembling against his chest.

 

‘It’s me. It’s me.’ Marco assures, too quickly, words running over one another, ‘I remember everything. I remember how much I regretted letting you go, both times. It was stupid enough the first, let alone--

 

Auba has to stop Marco’s ramble because it’s too much, too soon and because:

 

‘You’re drunk, Marco.’

 

Marco deflates, ‘I’m drunk.’ he admits.

 

*

 

_Marco wakes up from from his dream startled. He can’t tell if it technically counts as a nightmare because his heart is racing. But he knows that he wakes up with heavy disappointment settled in the pit of his stomach. He accepts that he’s sad, but also that soon he’ll get up and go about his day like every other day._

 

_It was one of those hyper realistic dreams where everything is so close to the future he almost had that for a few blissful seconds between being asleep and waking up he thinks he’s got it._

 

_Auba._

 

_It happens once every few months now, he’s glad that most days he can forget. But every now and then, the floodgates of his subconscious opens and he dreams._

 

_Lazy kisses and sun kissed skin, tangled sheets and wedding rings, holidays with family and romantic weekend getaways._

 

_The shame of not having seen Auba in five years and yet being unable to get over him._

 

_Marco shuffles around in his sheets, chest no longer clenched with a deep sadness, instead loneliness settles around him, gentle but persistent._

 

_It feels like the vast emptiness inside him will never end._

 

_Marco gets up and makes coffee._

 

_*_

For a few seconds Auba can’t really place Marco’s nervous face looking at him intently. Then he’s scrambling up as though still in the middle of the conversation from the night before.

 

 _‘Do you still love me?’_ is the question burning inside his throat but it’s difficult to articulate out loud. He feels silly for thinking it. Marco is on a corner of the bed still looking at him silently, like he expects Auba to speak first.

 

‘It’s me.’ Marco says when Auba doesn’t, ‘I remember.’

 

It’s horribly insufficient and somehow exactly right in the way only Marco and his reluctance to talk about his feelings can make it.

 

When Marco takes Auba into his arms this time, Auba believes that he’ll never let go.

 

*

 

It’s a few weeks that he and Marco have gotten back together and the happiness Auba feels terrifies him a little. There are days when he thinks that the loneliness was better, when he didn’t have things to treasure and lose.

 

Sometimes the desperation to hold onto Marco takes over him so completely that Auba thinks he should feel embarrassed but then Marco is there to meet his every wanton touch, kiss and caress with equal fervor.

 

They try to keep a professional distance at work but he still catches Amelie rolling her eyes at them at least once a day. If Auba’s touch on Marco’s shoulder lingers a little, he can’t really be blamed. It’s Marco’s fault for being so scrumptiously irresistible.

 

‘Hey, wasn’t coach Auba wearing that yesterday?’ Peter asks Marco, said shirt peeking out from underneath his BVB jersey which, Auba realizes with a sinking feeling also belongs to him.

 

Maybe Marco wouldn’t have acted like such a fool if the question hadn’t caught him off guard but he stutters and then says ‘no!’ a little too aggressively.

 

Maybe the denial would have worked if it wasn’t one of Auba’s signature bejewelled Dragon Ball Z shirts. Peter narrows his eyes suspiciously. When Auba had told Marco to pick any shirt, he hadn’t meant to pick the one he’d stripped off amidst fervent lovemaking the night before.

 

Peter suddenly laughs and points at Marco’s jacket collar where ‘PEA’ is stitched on it in bright yellow.

 

‘What’s up coach? Run out of laundry?’ Rashed says and it’s obvious that it’s all in jest. Someone whistles while another shouts, ‘he’s doing laundry at coach Auba’s!’ and Auba has to laugh at Marco’s face turning red like a tomato because Marco is actually doing laundry at his and Auba folds them because Marco stuffs his clothes into his closet straight out of the dryer like a caveman.

 

He breaks up the commotion to save Marco the embarrassment. Everyone is looking at them at different stages of laughing, some in full blown peals while others just chuckling good naturedly. And Auba suddenly thinks about how much he loves Marco and how much he’s always wanted to love Marco. He thinks about Fikret, now training with the senior team, believing that it’s _wrong_ to love Axel.

 

But mostly he’s just thinking about how it’s Friday and that he has the weekend off, he’s enjoying the perfect way that the sun shines across Marco making him look all lovely and golden, the edges of the little hairs growing back into his undercut sticking out in all different directions.

 

Auba is all feelings and no reason and he hooks two fingers under Marco’s chin and kisses him on the lips.

 

Short, chaste and in public.

 

Marco looks back at him in shock, the ground erupts into applause and more whistles.

 

Eventually though, everyone goes back to training. Max brings them everyone’s completed workout sheet from last week for record keeping. And then it’s just him and Marco and their love that they can no longer squeeze back into a tube that was never going to contain all of it anyway.

 

Later when Marco comes to his office, Auba expects him to yell or be upset. They’ve fought against doing the exact thing that Auba did for so much of their lives, the fact that he’s done it before the world ended and without Marco’s express permission is surreal.

 

Auba isn’t sure that he is, in fact, not dreaming.

 

But then Marco only sits on the edge of his desk, hooks two fingers under his chin and kisses him on the lips.

 

Slow and lingering.

 

‘So,’ Marco says, holding out a key, ‘are you ready to come home?’

**Author's Note:**

> I put a lot of myself into completing this and i really hope you enjoyed reading and if you are compelled by this story at all please do let me know.
> 
> flamingosarepink has a lot more headcannons that i love and want to write but i do need to finish my last minute sub assignment so this is complete as far as i can tell.
> 
> Thanks so much for reading!


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